Broken Things
by EnigmaticArsenic
Summary: Everyone wishes for a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, before you guys yell at me for starting another fic, I swear this will be very, very short. Like, two, maybe three chapters at the most. It would have been a oneshot, but I didn't have enough time to finish it all, lol.

This idea just came to me last night, and I don't know... I just really wanted to write it down.

Anyway, you know the drill- **critiques, comments, and mindless babble wholeheartedly welcome, flames... not as much. **Really, I don't care that you hate the pairing. For crying out loud don't read. I mean, it's only common sense... (You must be stupider than dirt to subject yourself to the torture of reading about a hated pairing just to flame it. Puhlease, for both our sakes, get a life...)

As for the rest of you, please enjoy.

...OOO...

He had felt her get up and leave their bed, imagined her soft footsteps padding across the bare wood floor, and now he could hear her crying silently in the hallway.

She thought he was asleep.

Presently he could make out her frantic scramble, rushing to the bathroom down the hall with feet that never made a noise. She was vomiting again. The flush of the toilet, the sound of the faucet running...

How many nights now, he wondered, had he awoken to this ritual?

Sesshomaru rolled on to his back, brushed a hand against his eyes, and let out a muted sigh.

It was becoming more and more frequent. Some weeks it happened every night.

A part of him knew he should go to her, try to comfort her, but a bigger part stubbornly refused.

She wasn't supposed to be doing this in the first place. Who was she to demand something like that from him?

Only his wife...

But she wasn't supposed to be like that- that woman who wept in the dead of night sometimes for an hour, sitting against the wall of their bedroom. She was supposed to be more than that; she wasn't supposed to feel the need to cry or want to.

Wasn't that why he had married her? Because she wasn't like other women? Because she wasn't emotional, didn't need or ask for his affection? And she had known just as well when she agreed that he wasn't the man one could demand such things from.

It was supposed to have been convenient.

And yet here she was ruining that agreement with those damned tears she wouldn't even let him see.

Once, on one of the first times he had been roused from sleep to find her not beside him, he had actually given in and called out her name.

He had detected the small startled gasp, terror-filled at having been discovered, at the possibility of having to explain. In his mind he had imagined her quickly drying her eyes, forcing her voice back to normal.

"Just a little parched," she had told him in a tone belying her earlier actions while sliding back into bed. "I went downstairs for a glass of water." He hadn't questioned her.

From the hallway he heard her approach, heard the undistinguishable sound of her erasing the last evidences of her nightly practice.

Quietly he turned his back to the door, pretended he was still sleeping, as she climbed back between the sheets, sank back down on her side of the massive bed. She didn't go back to sleep though. He didn't need to see them to know her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the darkness. She would remain so all night long, at least until the first rays of sunlight penetrated the sheer curtains. Then she would rise once more, go into the adjoining master bathroom to fix herself and change into the clothes of the woman he had thought he'd married, the clothes of a wife who had a successful husband, a beautiful house. The clothes of a woman who was alive.

It was late spring now meaning she would wear a light dress of soft material, silk and Egyptian cotton, painted with flowers in subdued pastels, the double strand of pearls he had given her early in their marriage gracing her pale, swan-like neck.

He would leave the bed only after she left the room to go to the kitchen and prepare breakfast. After a quick shower, he would get dressed in the usual business suit she readied for him, fix the tie himself, then go downstairs to eat. The paper would be waiting beside his plate.

Kikyo would serve him omelets and sausages, maybe crepes with fresh fruit, eggs benedict and toast- the things she knew he liked.

"Looks delicious," he would compliment, and she would smile a little and pour him a cup of coffee before taking her place across from him in the circular breakfast table.

Sometimes he caught her staring at him during breakfast just briefly after she sat down. To anyone else, it might not have meant much, but he could always apprehend the lost look in her eyes, as if she didn't even recognize him or knew what she was doing there. The look unsettled him, and he would quickly divert his attention to the paper until he felt her lower her eyes.

They ate quietly.

Neither had ever been given to conversation, but now he could sense her distancing herself from him, little by little, until he could no longer even fathom how they came to be married in the first place. Once again he turned his focus to the daily news- at least _they_ were comprehensible. But out of the corners of his eyes, he could always see her. She took a bite or two of her food and pushed the rest around her plate listlessly.

Sometimes he would comment, "You're not eating."

But she would just look up, smile her vacant smile, and answer, "I'm just not very hungry this morning." And he wouldn't push the matter farther.

After a second cup of coffee, it was time to leave for work. Taking his briefcase and his keys, he would meet her by the door where she awaited with his jacket, or when it was summer, nothing at all.

"Have a good day at work," she would wish him.

"I'll see you at dinner." No warm embrace, no parting kisses. They didn't touch, but that was nothing new. Sesshomaru wasn't one to show affection easily, not even in the privacy of his own home, and Kikyo never forced it upon him. That was why he had married her.

At the office Sesshomaru threw himself into his work, and more often than not, he ended up breaking his morning declaration and didn't get home until well into the night. Still, dinner was always waiting for him, kept warm in the oven, even when Kikyo wasn't. A lot of the times he found her already fast asleep, curled up on the couch with the thin mohair throw wrapped tightly around her slender shoulders.

He always left her there, not wanting to disturb her- it was the only time he was aware of that she actually slept. It never occurred to him to carry her upstairs to their bed, though it couldn't have been much of a task. She was so thin now...

But in any case, she would wake up a little later, change into a cotton nightgown, and join him of her own accord, though she wouldn't go back to sleep. Then sometime past midnight, he would feel her leave the warmth of their sheets, walk into the cold of the hallway- far enough where she thought she wouldn't disturb him, but close enough in case he should awaken- and cry her mute tears.

It truly frustrated Sesshomaru.

If he had known before hand that this was the wife he was tying himself to, he would never have married her in the first place. But then again, back then the thought of Kikyo ever shedding a tear for anything, let alone herself, would have been a laughable idea.

Of course she felt things. Not many people might have suspected it, but he knew that much. She towed a hard line sometimes, but inside she was always sensitive of others' feelings, their wants and needs, sometimes he felt even to a fault.

But crying? His ever rational, reasonable Kikyo? It was unimaginable.

They couldn't be the same woman, he told himself. Sometime in the night, sometime when he wasn't looking, someone had sneaked in and stolen away his calm, levelheaded wife and replaced her with this liquid transparent copy who nightly shed herself in her tears.

What was she even crying about? Sesshomaru could not even begin to guess at the answer.

Wasn't he good to her? Didn't he provide her with everything she could ever want or need? A large house, nice things, trips all around the world, luxurious clothes, expensive jewelry. What else could she possibly want from him? Hadn't he given her everything there was possibly to give to a woman?

_Yes_, a voice inside his head vehemently answered.

So then why did she insist on slipping away from him? Did she no longer wish to remain with him? Were the things he offered her not enough?

But if they weren't enough, then he wasn't enough, he thought angrily. And if he wasn't enough for her, if she was so hell-bent on getting more, then it was fine by him. Let her seek fulfillment in another man's bed.

The thought rang loud in his head, like a gunshot echoing off the walls of his mind.

Was that really the answer?

Sesshomaru had never bought into the overly commercialized idea of marital bliss. In fact, he had never thought to get married at all except that it was a convenient image to portray- something the naïve public wanted. Convenient. And he had thought he'd met a woman who understood that. A woman who didn't demand flowers and romance, long walks on the beach, or horse drawn carriages into the sunset. He had thought Kikyo was realistic and self-reliant, whole, undeluded. Someone who wouldn't hinder him with useless sentimentalities.

And yet nightly she left his side to cry in the hall, like some damned child.

Well, if she's no longer content, he found himself thinking irritably, he wasn't either. It would be best if they went their separate ways. The whole idea of marriage was a mistake- one he should have recognized the moment he laid eyes on her.

The thought continued to dominate his mind all night long and continued to do so in the morning, while they ate their silent breakfast, while they said their goodbyes and she watched him drive away, while he worked and came home- on time for once- while they ate just as quiet a dinner.

He eyed her across from him, twirling the fettuccine around her fork before bringing it daintily to her mouth for a small bite and replacing it on her full plate once more. Sometime in the day she had changed into a soft gray cashmere sweater and dark slacks to ward off the evening chill, her hair don up in a simple twist secured in place with a lacquered chopstick, the pearls still around her neck.

Could he really do it? he asked himself. Could he really sever himself from her? And more importantly, did he really want to? The answer was quite obvious.

Of course not. She was his wife after all. And besides, Sesshomaru never gave up on anything- to give up was the same as to fail, and if he was anything, it certainly wasn't a failure.

"How was your day?" she asked him.

"Good," he answered without elaboration. Work was not something he liked to discuss. "And yours?"

"Just as well." No details.

They sank back into silence.

Then again, Sesshomaru reconsidered, there was such a thing as cutting your losses. It was only a code of survival- like a drowning man being dragged down into the water by the weight of the corpse he was lashed to, someone who had given up trying to swim. You had to cut the ties and save yourself.

Sesshomaru didn't believe in saving those who wouldn't save themselves.

But this was Kikyo, he reminded himself. His Kikyo. Could he really let her go?

The dinner ended and she collected the plates, scooping up the remainder of the food into the trash before loading the dishes into the dishwasher. She had refused his offer to hire a housemaid for her, but watching her work, he realized it was probably all she had to busy herself now that she had taken a sabbatical from her teaching for an undetermined length of time.

Still, when she was preoccupied with those simple tasks, he noticed how at peace she seemed, certain and sure. Like the Kikyo he used to know.

Carefully Sesshomaru weighed his options in his mind. Was it better for him to just let her go, or was there still something there worth salvaging?

His thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside the kitchen door. Not a knock, more like the scratching of some stray animal or other.

Kikyo opened the door to see a cat dart off to a safe distance in the shadow and watch her with keen yellow eyes.

Without closing the door, she opened a cupboard and took out a can of tuna, opened it up, and spooned the contents into a small saucer which she placed on the stoop.

"What are you doing? Don't do that," he reprimanded, a little aggravated that she didn't know better. "You'll only encourage it to return."

She glanced back at him and he caught her eyes, caught the flicker of overwhelmed lostness in their dark depths.

"But it's hungry," she told him quietly.

Wearily he pushed himself away from the dining table and turned away. It was pointless to argue with her.

Since it was still early, he went into his study to look over some preliminary figures he had brought with him from the office while she curled up on the couch and fell asleep.

Was this all there was? Sesshomaru asked himself once more, pausing at the foot of the stairs before heading upstairs for bed to gaze at her slumbering figure. Was this really worth holding on to? Was she? She didn't even seem to want to be held at all.

In their bedroom he changed into flannel pajama bottoms, got in between the sheets, but didn't fall asleep. Instead he took up a book he had been meaning to start and opened it up.

Half an hour later she came in and he watched as she went into the bathroom and returned dressed in a fitted nightgown, white and gauzy. She sat with her back to him on her side and began brushing out her long hair.

They exchanged no words until she set her brush aside.

"Perhaps we should divorce," he observed reasonably, like one commenting that perhaps tomorrow he might cut the grass- they were looking a little long.

She froze for a second and didn't react, just taking in his words as she raised her feet into the bed to lay down, all the while never turning to him.

"Yes," she replied in a voice even less emotional than his, "perhaps."

For a moment he studied her, questioning whether he had done the right thing, but she just lay there, unmoved and unmoving, affirming his decision.

It was all for the best. She wasn't happy, and he didn't want to deal with it anymore. All for the best.

Turning off the lights, he eased down onto the mattress and fell asleep until the familiar rustle of sheets awoke him. The door creaked open, clicked shut, and he was alone on the bed again. She was just outside, sitting with her knees up against the wall, but she wasn't crying. Not tonight. He didn't know how he knew because even when she did she didn't make any noise, but he just did.

He thought about going after her, let her know he knew, had known all along. But then again, what difference would it make now? Sesshomaru remained where he was.

Out in the hallway, Kikyo buried her face in her hands and let out a shuddering breath. Her heart weighed a ton, but oddly enough, her mind felt lighter, more at ease.

The thing had been decided, and it was all for the best. She knew that.

She wouldn't have to concern herself anymore about disappointing anyone, making them worry about her. She would be free now that no one was holding on to her to drift and drift until she eventually disappeared and faded from this world.

She had dreaded the moment he would realize she was not the woman he had thought her to be, but now that it had passed, in a way it was a relief, like a heavy burden being lifted from her weary shoulders. At last she wouldn't have to try anymore.

She hated herself for ever letting him believe she was someone she could never be- strong, independent, worthy of love. Deep inside she had always known she was broken, but for a while, him believing she was somehow whole had made it possible for her to pretend that she was, had been enough for her to hold all the little pieces together. Now, however, there were too many, and she no longer had the strength to try. One by one they escaped from her grasp like fractured glass, jagged pieces better left unhandled.

Sesshomaru didn't need a broken wife always in need of repairs to tie him down. She had fooled him into taking something she knew full well he could never want. And he deserved much better than she could ever give him.

Divorce... She had known it was coming for sometime, though it wasn't because she believed him to be unfaithful. Actually, she didn't really know what had prompted him to bring it up now aside from their customary estrangement, but perhaps he had just finally grown weary of her. Perhaps he had just come to realize what a mistake it had been to take her in the first place...

Whatever the reason, it didn't really matter. In the end it was all for the best.

Half an hour later, she returned to the bedroom and gazed for a solitary second at her husband lying on his side, his back to her, fast asleep. As quietly as she could so as not disturb a moment of that sleep, she got back on her side and stared at the empty darkness.

If only it would swallow her up... then he wouldn't have to deal with the paperwork of a formal divorce. Yet another inconvenience she would cause in his life.

...OOO...

Looking back, it kinda reminds me of a quote from the book 'White Oleander' when Claire tells Astrid, "Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people." Except Kikyo doesn't even refer to herself as a person, and hence the title.

So...? Anything?


	2. Chapter 2

...OOO...

The next day they woke up and fell into the same routine as all other mornings with little decipherable change.

For a moment, Sesshomaru had to wonder whether he had just dreamed the whole scenario last night. In any case, he was starting to have second thoughts. What was it about a new morning that always seemed to tear the iron resolve of night?

Down in the kitchen, they sat down once more to breakfast, neither speaking to the other, but that was the norm in their relationship.

Looking at his wife quietly nibbling on a dice of cantaloupe, Sesshomaru debated whether or not to bring up the topic of divorce again, perhaps clear up the air. But as she didn't seem any different, he thought that it would probably be best just to leave it alone. Maybe if neither one acknowledged it, then they could just pretend it had never happened in the first place.

Still, it wasn't natural to brush off something so significant as talk of a divorce, and something about the morning and his wife kept nagging at Sesshomaru.

After breakfast, she met him at the door as usual, holding out his light spring jacket. The day was off to a chilly start.

"I might be late for dinner," he told her, speaking first.

Smiling wanly, she merely replied, "That's alright. Have a good day at work."

He nodded and walked out the door, and it wasn't until he was halfway to his car that she added something she never said in their morning partings.

"Good-bye."

Sesshomaru paused for an indecipherable second before continuing to his car and slid behind the wheel.

It didn't mean anything, he told himself. It was a perfectly normal thing to say when two people parted- whether for just the day or the rest of eternity. She didn't mean anything...

Shifting the car into reverse, he started backing out of the driveway but stopped just short of the road.

Kikyo was still standing by the open door, watching him leave the way she did every morning.

His hand itched to throw the car back into park, get out, and walk back inside with her. But it was an absurd idea. He had to get to work. There were things people depended on him to accomplish that day.

Slowly he eased his foot off the brakes, turned the wheel, and drove away.

When he was out of sight, Kikyo closed the door and went upstairs to their bedroom. Reaching to the clasp behind her neck she removed her pearls and placed them back in their velvet-lined case, but before closing it, she fingered them softly and hesitated.

She didn't have to do it, she told herself. He hadn't asked her to leave. In fact, he hadn't brought up the topic at all. The way he acted this morning, it was like last night had never happened. She didn't have to go. She could just stay and wait to see what happened next...

Maybe he didn't even mean what he said about the divorce. Maybe she was wrong and they still had a while yet to go before the inevitable happened.

But then again, why tempt herself with such hopeless possibilities? The inevitable was the inevitable.

In reality she was scared that if she waited a little longer, waited for him to come home, she wouldn't be able to handle it. And what if he really did want her gone? The idea was too excruciating to think about.

In the end though, she did wait a while before calling a taxi. She stuck around long enough to make their bed, tidy up the house a little, prepare a broccoli and cheese casserole in a glass pan complete with heating instructions.

She supposed it was a futile gesture considering the circumstance, but she couldn't bear the thought of him coming home hungry that night without dinner ready at the table.

When the taxi arrived, Kikyo took the one suitcase she had packed of her few personal belongings and left her set of keys on the nightstand beside the bed. She'd have no use for them anymore.

Sliding into the back of the yellow car, she gave the driver directions to the bank, and as they drove away, she forced herself not to look back for fear she might change her mind and return.

All the while she told herself it was for the best.

She loved him, but he didn't even care enough to notice her.

The worst part was that she couldn't even resent him for it. Everyone had warned her beforehand, and she knew the kind of man he was before she married him. She had no delusions about changing him, but she said 'yes' anyway. The only person she could really blame was herself.

...ooo...

It was late by the time Sesshomaru got home to a darkened house. Right away he knew something wasn't right, even though he could plainly see Kikyo's car in the driveway.

Walking in through the front door, he flipped the lights on and set his briefcase down. It was really quiet, but that wasn't anything new.

"I'm home," he announced, wondering why he bothered even as the words left his mouth. There was no answer and he hadn't expected one- Kikyo was probably all ready asleep.

Except that she wasn't in her usual spot on the couch.

Shrugging off his coat, Sesshomaru went into the kitchen to see if she had perhaps waited up for him. But all that greeted him was the casserole dish wrapped in tin foil, a note on top written in her neat script:

_Heat oven to 250. Bake for twenty minutes covered, remove the foil and return to the oven for ten more minutes. Be careful not to burn yourself- there are oven mitts on the second drawer beside the stove. And there's a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. –Kikyo._

Sesshomaru frowned a little and flipped the card over, half-expecting to find some sort of explanation in its blank face, but there was nothing there but the obvious.

Kikyo was gone and her only farewell was a written set of instructions on how to heat a casserole.

Following the instructions, Sesshomaru set the food in the oven, got out the bottle of red wine, and poured himself a glass.

He didn't know why her absence surprised him so much. Hadn't she just been waiting breathless for the chance to leave him? To leave this house that made her so miserable?

Calmly he sipped his wine and when it was done baking, took the casserole- the last dinner she would ever make for him- out of the oven and served himself a plate. It was his favorite dish, but it didn't taste as good as it usually did, which was odd since he was sure all the ingredients were the same. Kikyo wasn't petty enough to leave him with anything less. The only difference was that he was the one who had heated it.

When he was done, he left the dishes unwashed in the sink.

Despite his wife's wishes, it had been a hard day at the office, and now a slight headache was forming right in the middle of his forehead.

He massaged a hand over it to dissipate the pain but was interrupted by the ruckus right outside the kitchen door.

_That damn cat again_, he frowned, watching it dart off one of the lidded garbage bins.

Sighing wearily, he opened one of the cabinets and was astonished to find a whole stack of canned tuna even though it was not a staple in either of their diets.

_How long had she been feeding that thing? _

From another drawer he found the can opener and ran it around one of them, then set the can outside.

He supposed there was no harm if it kept the animal from making a mess pawing through the garbage.

Upstairs he found her set of keys on the nightstand along with the designer purse he had bought for her. Her wallet was still inside complete with cash and credit cards. All that was missing was her driver's license.

It irritated him.

Did she think he was so cruel as to deny his own wife- even if she would no longer be in a short while- financial support? Then again, she always was stubborn when it came to accepting help, no matter who it came from or how badly she needed it. Wasn't that the reason why he had married her?

Briefly he wondered where she could possibly have gone, but he wasn't all too concerned. He knew she had some small savings put away from before she married him- only a few grand, but enough to last her for a week or two until her lawyer got in touch with his to work out a divorce settlement. Right now she was probably at some hotel getting the sleep she never got sharing his bed.

It was fine by him. At least tonight he knew he wouldn't be awakened by anything except the sun and his alarm clock in the morning. At least that would have been the case had he actually slept. Sesshomaru spent the better part of the night frowning at the indecipherable words in his book. They must have been in league with her- they weren't making sense anymore either.

...ooo...

He didn't see or hear from her until a week and a half later when they and their attorneys got together at a conference room to arrange the divorce.

He stayed standing beside the window against one wall, gazing out past the blinds into city traffic. On one side of the long rectangular table was his lawyer- an old man who had represented generations of his family. Across from him, she sat with her lawyer, a prim woman sharply dressed in a crisp black suit with a gleam in her eyes that was akin to shark's when it just spotted its latest entree.

Despite the growing heat of the afternoon, Kikyo wore a sweater, too big now for her small frame, with a loose neckline that slipped off one shoulder and exposed her prominent collarbones bereft of their customary pearls. He had never remembered her looking so small before.

"Since there was no prenuptial agreement signed," her lawyer was saying, "my client is entitled to-"

She was cut off by Sesshomaru's representative, "Yes, but all major items- including the two pieces of real estate, the cars, jewelry, etc., were all purchased under my client's name, hence-"

Sesshomaru interrupted him.

"Give her whatever she wants," he declared, pushing away from the window but without looking over. "The car, the house, it doesn't matter. Whatever amount she wants for alimony, let her have it."

"But-" His lawyer was flabbergasted.

Sesshomaru didn't stick around for any arguments. Quickly he turned toward the door to leave, but not quickly enough that he didn't hear her response.

"I don't want anything," she said quietly, more to her attorney than to him. "The car, the house... they're all his. Let him keep them." Then she too rose from her seat to exit through a different set of doors, leaving behind two stunned divorce lawyers. It was the first time either had ever encountered a case in which both parties insisted the other get everything and refused them at the same time.

Since they had no children and had no bitter arguments about the settlement, the proceedings went smoothly and the divorce was finalized within a month.

True to her word, Kikyo left him with everything- including all the dresses and jewelry he bought her. In fact, Sesshomaru noticed that the only things she had taken with her when she left was what she had brought with her the first time she moved in as his new wife- a few pieces of clothing, an old quilt some matriarch or other in her family had sewn together, and a collection of old mournful jazz records she longed to dance to but never did. Everything that was solely hers, things he never had claim to.

Once again it irked him.

Was that how she saw their marriage? Did she see them as that separable that everything was labeled as either hers or his?

The house, the car, the clothes, the jewelry- he had bought them for her. They were hers as much as they were his. Why couldn't she stop being stubborn and take it as that?

He knew Kikyo would never take handouts, but did she honestly see his gifts that way? Did she not think he merely wanted everything good for her?

Why couldn't she be like normal women and entitle herself to a piece of their life together? Did she feel she would be indebted to him if she did? Did she really think he was that petty?

Or maybe she was simply being Kikyo, making a clean break that left him to dispose of all their memories.

Memories.

How he hated that word. It was so sentimental. The past was the past- there was no use revisiting something that was already lost.

For a while though, Sesshomaru stayed in the house, continued to sleep in their bed, now too large for his single person. At first he didn't think her absence would make much of a difference- she had always been so quiet, so easily missed even when she was around. So he found it quite surprising how much emptier the large house was without her. The quiet he never minded before was now deafening when it greeted him at the end of each day.

He started keeping an apartment in the city, and eventually he stopped going back to the house altogether. It was more convenient anyway, closer to his office. He had only moved to the suburbs because he had thought the open space would benefit her. Kikyo had never been much of a city person despite living in it most of her adult life.

Now she was back there too, he found out, living in some row house district in the east side. Small, but reasonably affordable.

He didn't know if she had started teaching again, or if she had found another job, but the thought of her struggling to make ends meet didn't sit well with him. And despite the fact she had said she didn't want alimony, he sent her a personal check monthly to cover whatever expenses she might incur.

They were never cashed but she never demanded he stop either, so he continued sending them every month like clockwork. It was their only link to one another after the finalization of the divorce.

Once or twice Sesshomaru thought to include a note with the check, but what was there to say?

_Hello. How are you? _

_Hope you're doing well_?

Inside he was afraid of what he might tell her if he gave himself the chance.

_I was wrong. _

_I miss you._

_I need you. _

_Come back home. _

_I love you._

All the things he neglected to say when they were together.

In the end the checks went unaccompanied.

What good would such words do him now? He couldn't even begin to imagine how she would receive them. She would most likely think he was crazy. Pitiful.

_She_ didn't miss him and she certainly didn't need him- the way she didn't need him before she met him. He had done nothing but ruin her and make her miserable, turned her into a woman who had to cry every night and then lock herself in a cold shell every morning. It was better this way. At least now she could start picking up the pieces of her life and move on. And he could do the same.

Still, he could never bring himself to accept the dinner invitations one of his attractive female colleagues was always dropping his way.

...ooo...

Before her illness Kikyo had taught an art appreciation course at a local college. It didn't pay much, but it had been enough to support her before marriage, and afterwards she had kept the job. Before she met Sesshomaru, it had really been the only thing in her life she thoroughly enjoyed, the only thing that had given her any sense of fulfillment.

During the first two and a half years of her marriage, when she was still working and enjoying being a new bride, she had truly been happy. And then...

And then she didn't know. Everything became grey again.

It must have been a slow process because she couldn't pinpoint an exact time when little by little, all the color was drained from her world.

At first she tried to ignore it, tried to keep going as if everything were still the same. In the end she couldn't.

About six months prior to the divorce, everything unraveled, too fast for her to stop. That was when she started to feel tired all the time and couldn't sleep. With every passing day it became more and more of a struggle just to get up, and even worse knowing what sort of day awaited her- full of smiling, laughing people. Happy people. Normal people. Her strength failed her and she couldn't bring herself to face them. The smiles she painted on her own face became too difficult to maintain.

She took a sabbatical halfway through the fall semester. They hired a replacement for the rest of the year before phasing out the program completely from lack of funding.

Now to support herself, Kikyo took a job directing a small art gallery uptown. She knew the only reason she got it was because the owner was infatuated with her, but it paid well and her savings was nearly depleted after putting down the first three months rent for her apartment and buying the needed furniture to make it livable. It was still pretty bare, but she didn't care. Kikyo had never needed much in the way of material items.

Every month Sesshomaru sent her a check, but she never cashed them. She wanted to tell him he didn't have to feel guilty or worried or whatever it was he was still feeling in regards to her. She was capable of taking care of herself- had done so long before she ever met him. There was nothing for him to concern himself over.

Still, every time they came- always on the fifteenth- she opened the envelope. It was a stupid and senseless thing to do because she knew exactly what was inside, the check and nothing else, but she always caved in to the tiny part of her that still clung to the hope that maybe he had included a note. Just to say hello. Ask how she was. Something that told her he still thought of her just beyond finances. There was never anything.

Every day at work, the owner of the gallery came to see her, a man named Naraku- tall, dark, good looking, and wealthy. The kind of man women tripped over themselves for.

It was almost ironic, like some bad punishment fate insisted she take.

If it weren't for Naraku, she and Sesshomaru would never have met.

Kikyo remembered that night- was it nearly five years ago? It might have been just last week.

For weeks Naraku had been stalking her. She couldn't remember how they came to know one another, probably through some mutual acquaintance, but from the very beginning she had made it clear she was neither interested in him nor anyone else. But Naraku wasn't one to take 'no' for an answer. He remained persistent, found out everything she liked to do, all of her interests. If she had thought to do so, she could have had a restraining order set against him, but he wasn't threatening. Annoying perhaps, but harmless.

And then one night he presented her with an offer he knew she couldn't refuse- tickets to an exclusive gallery opening and auction. It wasn't even a date. Naraku was going with someone else, but he told her he had an extra ticket and seeing as how she was so keen... Kikyo had decided it wouldn't hurt to attend.

That was where she first met Sesshomaru. They had just happened to be studying the same painting, and Kikyo had made a dry remark which he must have found amusing because she could have sworn he almost laughed.

Later on they coincidentally enough were also seated at the same table along with Naraku and his date for cocktails during the auction.

Naraku had leaned over and asked her which piece she preferred and she told him- an abstract painting of a doll-like girl with black eyes, her figure intersected by sharp angular flowers and bladed leaves all done in shades of blue and gray.

He made a bid for it. Sesshomaru beat him and presented it to her afterwards.

Looking back, Kikyo wished she had refused it. It wasn't as if he had really bought it for her anyway. He had only done what he did for the satisfaction of beating Naraku- it was obvious they were acquainted and that neither cared much for the other.

She wondered what Sesshomaru would think now if he knew she working for Naraku.

If they were still married, he probably would have marched into the place, threw her over his shoulder while threatening to blind Naraku if he so much as looked at her again.

Then again, she knew it wasn't really for her benefit either. Sesshomaru was possessive of everything he considered 'his'. She could have been a piece of property for all it mattered.

Since she came to work for him, Naraku had been unusually attentive. He probably noticed the absence of a wedding band on her ring finger. He was constantly offering to take her to lunch, to dinner, had fresh flowers delivered to her office daily, stopped by to chat, see how she was doing- all the things Sesshomaru never bothered with.

Kikyo declined him politely.

She wished she could just tell him outright to save his energy and attention. There was no way she would allow herself to fall into that trap again. No matter how tempting the proposition. She couldn't even remember how she came to fall into it the first time around.

No one could understand how a woman like her could fall for such a man as Sesshomaru. For a long time Kikyo herself couldn't understand.

He was so cold, they told her. Nothing at all of what she needed, and certainly nothing of what she could want. She should be with someone who could appreciate her, Naraku had said. Someone who knew what she needed, what she wanted, and exactly how to give her both. Not someone like Sesshomaru.

But when she was with him, none of that even mattered. When she was with him, for the first time Kikyo felt that perhaps there might be something more to life than simply waiting for it to end. That perhaps there was something more to her than just an empty shell.

She was such a fool. No wonder Sesshomaru could never love her.

She wished they had never met. Her life might have been empty before him, but at least it was bearable compared to the void she felt now.

After work every day, she went straight back to her apartment, stopping only at the supermarket to purchase ingredients for a dinner she often times forgot to make and more often forgot to eat.

The nights were always the hardest.

During the day she could force herself to get up, get dressed, go through the motions of living, but at night... At night there was nothing to occupy her mind, nothing to distract her from the voices constantly whispering insecurities. Nothing to keep her from being possessed by that woman who loved to cry.

How Kikyo hated her.

_Stop crying!_ she demanded. It was weakness to cry, but the woman never listened. She cried and cried and cried, and in the morning Kikyo hated herself even more because of it.

She was only glad Sesshomaru never found out, otherwise he would have hated her too. He would have been disgusted to know just exactly what kind of woman she was, had allowed herself to be reduced to.

Months went by, and the numbness spread, but it was never the same as before she got married. Life was a black and white photograph. The picture was the same, but before it had been out of focus, the edges blurred, the gray images soft. Something not altogether real. Now everything was sharpened to fine points, so clear she could almost reach in and touch them. But she bled every time she tried to.

...ooo...

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Sesshomaru fell into a routine with the semblance of normalcy.

Every morning he woke up, took a short shower, changed into his suit. He took breakfast at the corner café with a really strong brew of coffee- bitter, but satisfying- while browsing the morning paper for anything interesting. There usually wasn't. For lunch he ate in his office whatever his secretary bought him from the deli across the street, and for dinner it was either restaurants or take out. It tasted nothing like Kikyo's cooking, but he tried not to think about it.

His whole life came to revolve around his work, but really, that wasn't so different from before. It was just that now he pushed himself even harder to meet the needs of his clients and the firm the way he could never meet his wife's. It paid off too- in the first few months after their divorce, he was promoted to a bigger office, a bigger paycheck, bigger responsibilities. Not that it made much of a difference. It only meant that now he had even more money he didn't know what to do with. But at least his work kept his mind from thinking about her.

He was through with thinking about her, concerning himself over how she might be doing when she didn't even care to tell him. In the end that was what had really bothered him, even before the divorce. It wasn't that she felt the need to cry, it was just that she refused to let him see, to let him know she wasn't well. The way she always stepped out of the bedroom to do it, used the bathroom down the hall when she got sick, brushed her teeth afterwards so he'd never find out. She didn't even trust him enough to take care of her.

That was the real issue.

If someone as weak as that woman who cried constantly in the hallway didn't see it fit enough to seek out his help, didn't see him as capable of helping her, then how much weaker did that make him?

He realized he had never really been angry with her for crying, he was angry with her for not telling him, for hurting his pride as a husband. He was supposed to take care of her, she was supposed to be able to depend on him. But Kikyo refused to depend on anyone.

Wasn't that why he had married her in the first place?

God, he was such a fool.

One day he learned Kikyo was working at an art gallery owned by Naraku- a man Sesshomaru knew briefly by reputation as they were acquainted with the same circles socially. He had had quite an infatuation on her, and it baffled Sesshomaru to no end how she could agree to work for such a man.

Sesshomaru never did like him.

Naraku was a notorious playboy, and he had gone after Kikyo simply because she wasn't interested and wouldn't give in to him. He was in it for the conquest, nothing else.

Sesshomaru remembered the night of their meeting.

A client of his had insisted on his attending some art show he had absolutely no interest in, but the man who invited him was quite an important figure and his wife had some pieces on display- trite paintings of arranged silk flowers. Sesshomaru had a sneaking suspicion they had been included simply because the man was backing the gallery.

He had been observing one of the paintings when a woman had appeared beside him, her eyes roaming the canvas distastefully.

"It looks like something an art I student regurgitated for a mandatory still life project- mediocre technique and even less creativity," she had stated dryly. It wasn't necessarily aimed at him, but he was the only one nearby to hear it.

In any case, he had found it amusing. Didn't she know whose work she was criticizing? Or did she simply not care?

Later that evening he had found himself sitting beside her with Naraku on her left. The man was with another woman, but the passes he kept making at Kikyo were quite obvious enough. When the auction began, he had asked her which piece she favored, and naively she encouraged him by pointing one out. Naraku made a bid for it.

Sesshomaru didn't really know what came over him, but on impulse, he raised his card as well, upping the price. For several minutes it had gone back and forth between him and Naraku until with a small shrug, Naraku gave in.

"Well, my dear," he had told Kikyo, "I tried, but it seems our friend here is quite eager to obtain the piece you had set your eyes on. Heartless of him, really, but what can one do?"

Sesshomaru hadn't bothered to respond. He had just blown several thousand dollars on a painting he didn't even know the artist to, but it was well worth it just to put that arrogant bastard in his place.

When the whole thing was over, he had stood out under the large awning of the gallery lobby. It had been pouring down rain and he was waiting for the valet to bring the car around. He noticed her not too far off. She glanced back and caught his eye, a quick smile.

"Congratulations on acquiring the painting," she had congratulated when he walked over. "The composition is marvelous."

"If you say so," he replied blandly. "I have no interest in such things."

"Then why did you buy it?" she had questioned.

And he answered matter-of-factly, "Because I could."

Her lips twisted into a wry smile, "As good a reason as any other, I suppose." Turning away, she glanced up at the darkened sky flashing lightening and the big heavy drops of rain pelting the ground.

She sighed a little.

"I hope this rain lets up soon," she murmured more to herself than to him. Taking out an umbrella, she opened it up and prepared to leave.

"You plan on walking in this downpour?" he asked.

"Unless I can catch a cab," she answered. "It's either that or wait for Naraku to insist on taking me home, and I'd rather not take him up on that offer."

Just then his car rolled in front of them.

On another impulse he told her, "Get in."

"What?" She had to look at him twice to understand what he had just spoken.

"I'll give you a ride," he repeated already behind the wheel. "If you want it."

From a distance Kikyo had spotted Naraku making his way to her and jumped inside. He drove her home that night, memorized the address, and had the painting delivered the next day. That was how it had all began...

And this was how it all ended, with neither one much better off than when they started.

The idea of her working now for Naraku- a man he knew would still be deeply interested in her simply because he could never have her- really bothered Sesshomaru. The possibility that they might be involved crossed his mind, and he nearly recoiled at the thought. His Kikyo with that bastard?

No, she couldn't... How could she be so naive as to fall for someone like Naraku? Surely she must realize what he was after, and that once he had it, he wouldn't think of her again.

Sesshomaru didn't know who to be more angry at- Kikyo for attaching herself to Naraku, or Naraku for playing Kikyo. If anything happened to her, he swore he'd kill him.

And then Sesshomaru caught himself, frowned, ran a hand through his hair.

Was it really any more of his business what she did now? He had to keep reminding himself Kikyo wasn't his wife anymore. She was free to do as she damned well pleased, and he had no say in the matter.

Damn woman...

But how could she be so blind as to get involved with Naraku? Or had things simply become too difficult and she was working for him because she had no choice?

This idea bothered him even more than the thought of them together, and the next check he sent her, Sesshomaru doubled the amount with the hope that it might be enough to convince her to quit. But of course, she never redeemed it.

...OOO...

Ok, I'm in dire need of sleep and food, but I couldn't stop typing, though people kept interrupting. Sigh, when did it get to be so hard to achieve a little solitude? Move to Appalachia and become a hermit who farms beets? Oh to lead such a life...

Lol, ok. Enough of that.

Anyway, I've decided not to respond individually to reviews at the moment, just because this will be a pretty short story. I thought it would be better just to finish it and let you guys draw your own conclusions, and at the end if anyone has any comments or questions, then I'll answer. But please don't hold back on the reviews now, because I do still take them into consideration when writing- they help me figure out not only what you guys think but also of ideas and feelings I might be falling short in conveying. So please, leave a note:pout: lol.


	3. Chapter 3

...OOO...

One night around late January, the concierge handed Sesshomaru his daily mail when he was on his way upstairs to his apartment after work.

On the very top was an envelope thin and white with Kikyo's name and address written in his handwriting underneath the stamp. Over it in red ink, a decidedly feminine but unfamiliar hand had scribbled _Return to sender. Recipient no longer lives here._

_No longer lives here..._

He stood there for several minutes just staring at the words in bewilderment. It took a long time for their apparent meaning to become clear.

No longer lives here.

Kikyo had moved? But when? And why didn't she at least let him know?

_Because she's no longer obligated to_, a voice inside his head spoke reasonably. She was no longer his wife, and he was no longer her husband. For all purposes, he wasn't even supposed to care whether she stayed or went or did anything else for that matter.

So why did he?

Sesshomaru couldn't answer the question without admitting to himself that, even after all this time, he still cared about _her. _About how she was doing. Convenient or not, he just had to know.

The next day he called her lawyer on the pretense that he had come across something of hers and wanted to know where he could return it, but her attorney told him that she hadn't heard from Kikyo since the finalization of their divorce. The only address she had was the same one as was written on the returned envelope.

For several days after, Sesshomaru tried to let the matter go.

It really was none of his business after all, he tried to convince himself without much success. But he didn't care whether it was his business anymore or not. She couldn't just decide to disappear without letting him know. She just couldn't. Even if their marriage had been an utter failure, he thought he at least deserved that much from her. How could she not think he wouldn't care enough to know?

At the end of the week, he finally picked up the phone and dialed her number. It rang a couple of times before a series of beeps clicked on the other line.

"I'm sorry," the automated operator apologized, "but the number you have dialed has been disconnected."

The announcement baffled Sesshomaru further. Disconnected? Why was it disconnected? Who had disconnected it? It didn't make any sense. Why the hell was she doing this to him?

Angrily he threw his coat on, went downstairs, hopped into his car, and sped all the way to the only place he could think to look for her- the art gallery where he last heard she worked.

Not bothering to park correctly or turn off the ignition, he jumped out and slammed the door shut. Striding purposely inside, he scanned the room quickly but saw no sign of his delinquent wife.

"Is Kikyo in?" he asked the girl behind the greeter's stand gruffly.

She looked up startled but didn't have time to answer as a voice behind Sesshomaru echoed, "Kikyo?"

Sesshomaru whirled around to see Naraku giving him a quizzical glance.

"Where is she?" he demanded coldly.

With a shrug Naraku simply replied, "Shouldn't you know better than me? Kikyo stopped coming to work almost a month ago. Didn't even bother to call to say she quit." Honestly he hadn't thought much of it. Naraku had merely assumed Sesshomaru had come back to his senses, dragged her back home, and locked her up in the cellar somewhere.

"Having a little lovers' spat?" Naraku sneered, unable to help but feel a little pleased that Sesshomaru should think Kikyo would come to him when they had an argument.

Sesshomaru, however, didn't bother to respond before hurriedly leaving the building and got back into his car, ready to drive on to the next person who might know her whereabouts. But he didn't move. He didn't know where else to look, who else to go to for information. Kikyo never had any close friends, not even from before they were married. She had always pretty much kept to herself.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to slow his racing thoughts and analyze the situation logically.

In the span of one month since he had sent the last check, Kikyo had quit her job, cut off her phone, and changed her address- all without telling a single soul. Without leaving so much as a hint for him to trace should he have the need to contact her.

The conclusion was obvious, but it left him not knowing quite what to feel. Angry? Relieved? Indifferent?

How was one supposed to react when the person he had once called his wife had finally gone and severed the last of their connections to one another?

At last she had finally freed herself from him completely. At last she had done what he had refused to do- cut off whatever had remained of their life together in one fell swoop, nothing wavering, never hesitating. It was so like Kikyo to do so.

And here he was, chasing after her like some idiot dog. How she would mock him if she knew. After all, he was the one who had suggested the divorce. He was the one who had pushed her to leave. She was only obeying his wishes.

Still sitting behind the wheel of his stalled vehicle, Sesshomaru let out a weary sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

He wasn't supposed to be a person who regretted things, and he tried to tell himself that she was right in doing what she did. There was nothing left of their relationship. They were standing on opposite sides of a deep gorge- why torture themselves with bridges that were too thin, too flimsy to cross, and went nowhere anyway? It was better to just burn them all, move on, and never look back.

Never look back. He had never been one to do so before, so why should he this time around? Anyway, there was nothing there for him to look back to. Kikyo had long ago vanished from sight. Maybe she was the stronger of the two after all. Or at least the smarter.

Shifting the car into drive, Sesshomaru eased his foot on the gas pedal and went home.

That very afternoon he called a real estate agency to put their house in the suburbs- the very symbol of their failed life together- up for sale along with the summer home they had kept by the ocean.

They had been driving through the area once, and she had spotted the house almost floating on the surf, and fell in love with it. Right away he had marched up to the door, spoke to the current owner, made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and bought the entire property on the spot. Like everything else, it was a gift to her, but in the end none of his offerings were ever enough to keep her beside him. There was something more she wanted, something he didn't understand and didn't know how to give.

Now all he could do was follow her rational example.

Burn the bridges.

Never look back.

Sesshomaru was sick of looking back.

...ooo...

The dry winter faded into a cold, wet, rainy spring.

It was early noon, but the skies were already dark, thick with grey clouds just waiting to unburden themselves on to an already waterlogged city.

Sesshomaru entered the restaurant packed full with the lunch crowd.

"Sesshomaru." He heard his name called.

Tracing the voice across the room, his eyes came to rest upon a smiling woman, face flawlessly made, dark haired and bright –eyed wearing a low cut, sleeveless blouse over a Chanel skirt, the matching suit jacket slung over the back of her chair, Prada pumps, and a diamond tennis bracelet. She waved him over.

"Did you find this place ok?" she asked while sipping the bubbling champagne she had already had brought over.

Taking a seat across from her, he gave a small nod and answered, "Yes. Am I late?"

"Oh no, no," she quickly answered. "Not at all. I was just early, but I'm glad you came. I must say I'm quite surprised you finally accepted my invitation to lunch- and just when I was thinking about giving up on you." She flashed him a red lipsticked smile, slow and seductive.

"Not at all," he replied coolly. He rather liked her avid persistence.

The waiter came and they ordered lunch, chatting mostly about office affairs and the state of the economy while they waited for it to arrive. She was never short on words, an easy conversationalist. He found it a refreshing change of pace and wondered why it had taken him so long to take up her offer.

About ten minutes into their lunch date, his cell phone rang and he reached into his pocket to turn it off, but he glanced down briefly at the screen to see who was calling. He frowned, not recognizing the number. It continued to ring.

"Who is it?" she asked unconcernedly, readily forgiving him for such a breach in etiquette.

He read her the number as the phone rang for the sixth time in his hand, showing no sign of relenting.

Shrugging delicately, she sipped more champagne and told him, "Go ahead and answer it. It might be important."

"I won't be long," he promised, flipping the phone open. "Hello?"

Her voice sounded tiny and far away, "Sesshomaru?"

He almost lost his breath. It was nearly a year since he last heard that voice, but there was no mistaking it.

"Kikyo?" he replied bewilderedly, once again at a loss as to the appropriate reaction.

"I want to go home," she choked, her words coming out strained and exhausted but decidedly free from tears, sober. "They won't let me go. I'm so tired... please help me."

"Kikyo?" he repeated, no longer sure. He had never heard her speak like that before. "Kikyo, where are you?"

There was a small gasp on the other line, and he could imagine her eyes growing wide at catching herself doing something so unlike her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized in a rushed whisper. "So sorry..." The line went dead.

"Who was it?" his companion asked across from him, the first lines of displeasure etching their way across her forehead.

Still staring at the phone, Sesshomaru couldn't answer. His mind was running too fast, trying to interpret the meaning of it all.

What the hell was Kikyo thinking calling him after so long, just as he was finally starting to forget? Did she just expect him to come running at her every beck and call? To jump to her aid after refusing to take it when he had actually wanted to?

Who the hell did she think she was to intrude and interrupt his life when she didn't want to partake in it in the first place? an angry voice inside of him demanded angrily. Why should he go to her now simply because it had suddenly become convenient for her?

But her voice... In his mind it echoed, overpowering his anger.

"_I'm so tired... please help me." _

It must have been the same tone in which doomed men implored desperate prayers of salvation from an indifferent god.

Would he be the same to her? a more reasonable voice asked quietly. _Could_ he be the same? Could he really deny her even as she pleaded for him on her knees? Would he really stand by on dry land and do nothing as she drowned in some cruel, merciless ocean?

"_...help me."_

Hurriedly, Sesshomaru pushed himself to his feet.

"Where are you going?" the woman across from him interrogated in aggravation- a woman he could no longer recognize.

Shaking his head, Sesshomaru left without explanation, dodging past bodies without faces as he made his way out of the restaurant and into the car, peeling out of the parking lot, leaving a short trail of burned rubber on the black asphalt.

His wife needed him.

Tracing the number to a mental health hospital across the city, Sesshomaru sped down trafficked streets, anxious to know what Kikyo was doing in such a place. He pulled up right beside the entrance and marched inside.

"I'm here to see my wife," he announced to the receptionist.

"Patient's name?"

"Kikyo..." For a second Sesshomaru paused unsure whether or not she had reverted back to her maiden name, but at last he gave her his own.

The receptionist frowned when she pulled up Kikyo's file on the computer.

"I'm sorry, but she's under special restrictions. Only immediate family members may visit."

"She's my wife," he nearly growled. How much more immediate could they be?

She bit her lower lip nervously, "I'm sorry, but Ms. Taisho isn't registered as married... are you sure you have the right person?"

Fixing her with an icy stare, he reiterated, "Where. Is. She?" His patience was running very, very thin.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "But I can't divulge that information."

"What's going on here?" another woman questioned, stepping out of an office behind the counter. She had short blonde hair and was dressed in the white lab coat of a doctor. Her name tag identified her as Dr. Michiko Ikari.

"Ah, this is Mr. Taisho to see Kikyo Taisho..." the receptionist stammered.

Nodding understanding, Dr. Ikari announced calmly, "I'm sorry, but only immediate family is allowed to visit the patient. You have no legal standing as an ex-husband."

At last Sesshomaru had had it.

"_My wife_ called me here, and I intend to see her," he stated with slow deliberation, uncompromising. "Now. Either you take me to her, or I can tear this building down brick by brick and find her myself."

Dr. Ikari studied him cooly, measuring the level of his seriousness, then nodded. Sesshomaru met her stare squarely, just daring her to refuse again.

"Alright," she agreed.

Down several hallways she lead him until they came to the psychotherapy ward.

"Did she tell you why she was admitted?" the doctor asked curiously.

"We didn't speak long." Sesshomaru had no desire to discuss Kikyo with this hard looking woman.

"Then perhaps you should ask her."

Without saying anymore, they came to a patient room, and she opened it up.

Kikyo was sitting up in the narrow hospital bed, her head turned away to the opposite window, staring out into the cold gray world outside. At the sound of their entrance, she glanced over.

She was thinner than ever, her skin too pale, her eyes dull and empty. He had never seen her look so frail before. Was this really his wife?

"Sesshomaru?" Confusion flitted in her eyes, surprised at his appearance. Her voice erased the last of his doubts.

Pushing past the doctor, Sesshomaru strode over to her wordlessly, took off his jacket, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Where are your shoes?" he inquired, glancing around for them.

"I don't..." She didn't understand what was happening.

Dismissing his own words, he answered brusquely, "Never mind." and lifted her into his arms.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dr. Ikari demanded still standing beside the entrance.

Sesshomaru turned his cold glare to her, "I'm taking her home. My attorney will contact you shortly about the legal ramifications of withholding a person against their will."

"What? You can't..." She moved to block the door, but Sesshomaru easily brushed her aside.

"Someone will return for her belongings," he told her without slowing his gait.

He carried Kikyo out of the hospital and deposited her into the passenger seat of his car before sliding in behind the wheel himself. For an entire minute neither spoke or made a movement.

Finally Kikyo said, "I didn't think you'd come."

"Then why did you call me?" he wanted to know.

Turning away, she replied, "They wouldn't release me except in the care of a family member. They gave me the phone and told me to notify someone... I didn't know who else to call."

Sesshomaru didn't answer. Kikyo had no parents, no siblings, aunts or uncles. No cousins to speak of. He had been her only family. At least, before the divorce.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you," she murmured, still not looking at him.

He didn't know how to respond. He wanted to lie and tell her it was no problem, that he had been glad to come. But the words wouldn't form themselves. How could he honestly tell her he was glad to see her in such a state? What kind of husband rejoiced in the suffering of his wife?

Instead he asked quietly, "How long have you been here?"

"A little over two weeks," she answered just as softly. "After I was transferred from the general hospital."

Sesshomaru couldn't bring himself to ask the reason why she was admitted in the first place. To see her like this... it was too much.

Two weeks... two weeks of no one knowing where she was, of no one knowing whether she was ok, of whether she was even alive.

For the first time since he knew her, Sesshomaru understood her loneliness, and it scared him. It scared him to realize just how easily she could be lost not only from him, but from the entire world. She could have disappeared, vanished into thin air and no one would ever have known. No one would have cared.

He had always thought she was drifting- drifting away from him, drifting away from everyone, from life. Why didn't he see sooner it was because she had nothing to anchor herself to? Why couldn't he have just held on a little tighter?

Turning on the ignition, he rolled the car out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Where do you want me to take you?"

Kikyo glanced out the window, brought a hand to her mouth to stop herself from breaking down. She just wanted to go home, but she couldn't even tell where that was, had ever been. How did she get to be so lost like this? she asked herself.

Out loud she whispered, "I don't know anymore..."

"_I want to go home."_

Sesshomaru took her to the only home he could think of.

...OOO...

Ok, I know I said three chapters, but I ran out of time again to finish, so there'll be a fourth. Possibly a fifth. Sorry. :sweatdrop:


	4. Chapter 4

Hello all. First off sorry for the longer than usual absence. I've been in a funky mood lately, ultra sleepy. Seriously, thirteen hours straight and two hours later, I'm ready to pass out again. XD I've been busy with trying to get all my clothes organized too after living in piles for several weeks. Lol. So yeah...

Not that I still didn't try to get this written. I must have started like half a dozen times, but I didn't like any of them. Sigh. I really did try to get this all written down fast before I forgot everything, but apparently, I didn't do it fast enough because this chapter was really horrible to write. Anyway, I hope it doesn't suck too much.

...OOO...

He took her back to the house that he had never sold, always finding one excuse or another to refuse the many offers that had come since it went on the market two months ago.

It looked the same as the last time either had seen it- the grass was a little long, the shrubbery in need of a little pruning, the flowerbeds a little overgrown, but in the driveway Kikyo's car still sat hidden underneath a tan canvas cover.

Inside a thin coating of dust on the furniture that were never removed testified to the uninhabited state of the house.

Sesshomaru flicked on the lights. All the utilities were still in working order, having never been cut off.

Upstairs, their bedroom was a time capsule, a bottled memory of the day they parted. All her clothes, all her perfumes and toiletries, all her jewelry were exactly where she had left them.

All except the pearl necklace. It lay opened and exposed on his nightstand.

While Kikyo took a shower, Sesshomaru stripped and remade the bed with fresher sheets from the linen closet. He opened the window to air out the room.

Neither one spoke or thought. They didn't dare to question the situation or themselves. It was a Pandora's box neither cared to open for fear of all the bad things that would fly out.

Planting his hands on the windowsill, Sesshomaru gazed outside into the ever darkening world. The clouds had thickened even more, the breeze grown colder, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled threateningly.

Behind him, he could hear the shower stop, heard the bathroom door swing open.

"Are you not going back to work today?" Kikyo asked, surprised at still finding him after her shower. It was not yet a quarter past three.

"I've called to reschedule my meetings," he replied, fixing his eyes on some irrelevant point outside to keep from staring at her clad only in a towel clasped shut by one hand. "They were nothing important."

"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you like this," she apologized, coming closer to stand next to him.

He closed the window when she shivered from an incoming gust of wind.

Quietly he answered, "You are not an inconvenience."

Kikyo almost stepped back, startled to hear something so unlike Sesshomaru to say.

But then she said surprised herself by admitting to him that which she had wanted to tell him all along.

"I've missed you."

"Then why did you leave?" he demanded, finally turning to see her, a hint of controlled anger snapping in his eyes. Anger and... hurt?

"Why did you want me to?" she countered softly, not looking away.

The anger faded, and he returned his gaze outside.

"Why did you want to?"

Confusion crossed her face, made her frown.

"But I never..." Where did he ever get the idea she wanted to escape him? What had she done to make him think she wasn't happy to be his wife?

She reached out a tentative hand to his arm.

"I never wanted to leave," she told him firmly.

Sesshomaru could have argued, could have asked why then did she cry all those nights if she was happy to be with him. But he wanted to believe her words instead. Quietly he placed his hand over hers.

"I never wanted you to." He never really had. He had only thought it was what she had wanted, what she had needed.

With her free arm, she embraced him, and he held her close, the first time in too long that they touched.

Standing on her tiptoes, Kikyo kissed him, and he returned it. His hand searched for hers holding the towel tight, and eased it open, letting the towel unravel and fall to the floor at her feet. She compassed her arms over his shoulders as he lifted her up once more, carried her to their bed, and laid her down, his mouth never leaving hers.

His kisses strayed- to her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, that little spot just behind her earlobe. Her secret sensitive spot.

He felt the shiver run down her spine and pulled away.

Kikyo sat back mutely while he shed his clothes and bent over her again, bracing his body with his arms on both sides of her, afraid of crushing her frail frame with his full weight. When he shifted on top, she opened herself readily to receive him.

Outside the clouds broke and the rain fell, angry on the rooftop, against the window panes.

Neither noticed or cared.

They made love the rest of the afternoon until she fell asleep, happy and exhausted, pressed close against him for warmth.

Sesshomaru kept one arm around her, his fingers lazily stroking her back, tracing the lines of her shoulder blade so well defined against taut skin. He moved his hand lower to her side, pressed it lightly and counted her ribs underneath.

She was so thin, he thought once again, frowning slightly. It couldn't be healthy.

He had to make sure she ate a little more from now on, he told himself, making a silent vow to better to her this time, become more attentive to her needs, her wants. Make her happy. Keep her happy.

And things would get better.

He promised to make it work this time.

...ooo...

When Kikyo awoke later in the evening, she was alone on the bed, but the sound of the shower running told her Sesshomaru wasn't too far away.

Her whole body relaxed and she rolled on to her back, watched the ceiling echo with the drumming of rain.

Things would get better now, she thought, trying to silence the little voice of doubt and reason nagging at the back of her mind. There was no need for it. Second chances didn't always have to end like the first.

She would be better this time, she promised silently.

She loved him, and she was willing to do anything to be with him. She would paint as many smiles on her face as he wanted, say all her lines more convincingly, lay her will at his feet. She would lie to him, lie to herself, lie to the entire world until it became the truth if that was what it took. It didn't matter so long as she was with him.

This time she was determined to keep all the pieces together, refuse to let them fall apart, to let even a single crack appear on the surface. Forget the state of what was underneath.

If he loved her- even just that shell- it would be enough. It was all she needed, she assured herself. His love to keep her from drowning, from drifting away into some unknown grey universe.

She clung to the thought like a lifesaver.

Sesshomaru came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his trim waist.

She smiled up at him. No time like the present.

"I've ordered dinner," he told her with a kiss. "You do like baked salmon and angel hair pasta, correct?"

"It's my favorite," she replied, surprised that he knew and remembered.

The food came and they ate it in bed, Sesshomaru nudging more and more of the fish and noodles on to her plate to encourage her to eat. Kikyo didn't have much of an appetite but she made herself eat it all anyway.

After they finished the meal, they made love again, hungry as the dry earth for rain after a long drought. They never even realized how long it had lasted.

From his nightstand, Sesshomaru took the pearls and clasped it around her neck with another kiss.

Kikyo ran a finger down the double strand, smooth beads of promises they were determined to never break.

_Things will be better this time._

It was the same thought which lulled them both to sleep.

The next day was a weekend, and they spent it shopping for groceries, stocking up the empty pantry with all the necessities. Flour and eggs, meat and spices. Cans of tuna for whatever starving cat that might happen to wander into their backyard.

Sesshomaru said nothing. She could feed the entire population of strays in the city is she wanted to. Whatever made her happy.

The entire weekend went by as is custom in romantic reconciliation, in lovemaking and very little else.

Both were disappointed when Monday morning rolled around and Sesshomaru had to return to work. He left her with his credit cards and cash, the set of keys she had left behind, and, as he made sure to do every morning after, a kiss.

Every night he returned as early as his schedule allowed, but even on nights when he was late for dinner, Kikyo always waited up for him. Once, after a particularly long day, he did find her asleep on the couch, a book still open in her hand, so he took her upstairs and put her to bed.

When they slept, he always kept one arm over her middle to ensure she didn't leave the bed without his knowing. She never stirred except on one occasion.

He had felt her gently pushing his arm away, and he awoke to see her rising to her feet. Grasping her trailing hand, he held her back.

Startled, she turned to him, unaware he was awake, but then she smiled.

"I'm going to the kitchen for a glass of water," she said. "Would you like me to bring you one?"

Sesshomaru shook his head 'no' and let her go. She came back only a few minutes later and climbed back in without trying to avoid the arm he replaced around her waist. Kissing him goodnight, she readily fell back to sleep.

He had breathed a small sigh of relief.

Things were getting better.

Two weeks went by in the same progress, and it was Saturday night again and they were lying in bed after intercourse, her hand tapping against the one he held out, intertwining her fingers through his and then releasing them again.

"The rent to my apartment runs out tomorrow," she told him, keeping her eyes on their hands.

He encased hers and brought it down to the bed.

"We'll drive over in the morning to pick up your things," he replied.

They were quiet for a moment, thoughtful about the implications of such a move, before she shifted to her side to face him.

"Sesshomaru, what are we?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What are we to each other?" she repeated. "What am I to you? A girlfriend? A lover? I'd like to know..."

He frowned a little, studying her face, but she wasn't trying to lead him with her question. She was simply curious.

"You're my wife," he answered. "As you've always been."

Turning over, she threaded her fingers through his and pointed out, "But we're still divorced."

Sesshomaru propped himself up on one elbow to glance at her profile.

"If it concerns you," he replied, "we can sign another marriage license. We'll go to the courthouse Monday morning if you'd like."

"It's alright," she murmured. "You'd miss work, and it's nothing very urgent."

Sesshomaru thought a moment, then proposed, "Wait two weeks. I have some vacation time coming. We'll go wherever you want to."

"Like a second honeymoon?" she inquired, her interest piqued.

"If you'd like."

Kikyo smiled and reached a hand behind his head, bringing him down for a long kiss.

"It sounds wonderful."

Everything was wonderful.

Sesshomaru returned the kiss, then laid back down behind her to sleep. He didn't catch the small glint of worry in her eyes as she sank back on her pillow and turned her head away.

Kikyo frowned at herself, confused at finding the unwarranted misgiving.

Everything was wonderful. So why did the thought suddenly unsettle her?

Hurriedly she brushed the feeling away, refusing to indulge it. She would not fall into that trap again, she swore to herself. Not this time. Not when everything was going so well.

There was no need for the distress, she assured herself.

She turned her mind to other things- chores she had to accomplish the next morning, if Sesshomaru would like French toast instead of crepes for breakfast, whether it would be nice enough outside to do some gardening- anything to distract her from the inaudible nagging whisper in the back of her mind.

That Sunday they retrieved her things and Kikyo officially moved back in.

She was happy, she told herself, ignoring the little voice that had become just a little louder.

Monday she sent Sesshomaru off to work with a kiss and a smile and busied herself with whatever work she could find.

...ooo...

That afternoon, as he was getting ready to leave work, Sesshomaru's secretary buzzed him.

"Mr. Taisho, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a woman here who insists on seeing you."

"Does she have an appointment?" he asked, a little annoyed at being delayed.

"No, but she says it's very important. She says her name is Dr. Ikari. She says it's about your wife..."

Sesshomaru frowned, recalling the name. That doctor... She had left a couple of messages for him the last week, but he never returned the calls.

"Tell her I'm not interested," he instructed. "See her out, and if she refuses... call security."

"Yes, sir."

There was no commotion outside of his office, but when Sesshomaru wade his way to his car, she was waiting for him in the parking lot.

"About time," she greeted dryly. "Don't you know it's impolite to keep a lady waiting?"

He eyed her warily, but walked past to his car.

"Whatever you might have to say, I suggest saving your breath. I don't care to hear it." Opening the door, he tossed his briefcase inside and prepared to follow suit when she stopped him.

"She tried to kill herself," she told him cooly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her slacks. "Did she tell you that? Why we had to admit her in the first place? An overdose of sleeping pills and alcohol. She would have died too, if a neighbor hadn't heard her smoke detectors go off and called the superintendent. Apparently she left something in the oven. He let himself in when there was no answer and found her passed out on the sofa, saw the empty bottles, put two and two together and called the paramedics."

Sesshomaru studied her for a second, trying to determine the what she was after.

She couldn't be right. Kikyo would never do something so stupid.

"It's a lie," he replied flatly.

Dr. Ikari shrugged, "She says it was an accident, but it doesn't really matter whether she consciously intended to do it or not. The point is, Kikyo is severely depressed. I've gone through her medical files- she's suffered bouts of depression since she was about five. Do you know how rare it is for children that young to be clinically depressed?"

"She had a hard childhood," he replied, all the while wondering why he was even bothering to dignify her accusations with a response. "She was orphaned as a baby, and raised by an ailing grandmother. Did you expect her to be as carefree as other children? But Kikyo is not depressed."

"You can deny it all you like," she replied, "but it will never change the fact that she's sick. She might seem well now, and she might seem well for a long time, but depression is a cancer, Mr. Taisho. Even after you've treated it, think you've eradicated it, it can still always return. She'll relapse, and then what?"

Turning her head away, she informed him, "Someone close to me committed suicide- did a jack knife from her tenth story loft. No one even suspected she was sick. So you see," she went on, meeting his gaze and locking it, "I'm only doing this as a courtesy, because I believe in what I do. Kikyo is sick, and if you cared at all about her, you'd get her the help she needs."

She walked away, and Sesshomaru got into his car and drove home.

It still couldn't be true, he told himself. Depression was an illogical illness, the feeling of things without cause. Kikyo was much too levelheaded to let herself get emotional over things without a reason. She couldn't be depressed.

When he got home, she was putting the finishing touches to dinner.

He examined her carefully. She seemed normal enough, busily checking the oven to determine the roast needed a few more minutes.

True she had been listless those few months before the divorce, but he had attributed that to their marital problems, nothing more. And they were working those out now, and she had never once shown signs of regressing.

It couldn't be true.

"How was your day?" she asked, while they sat down to dinner.

Sesshomaru chewed his meat slowly, taking his time before answering.

"Dr. Ikari came to see me today," he told her, keeping his voice low, aloof. He gauged her reaction carefully. Kikyo froze at the name.

"Why did you do it?" he wanted to know.

She sighed wearily, put her fork down, wiped her clean hands on her napkin.

"It was an accident," she replied. "The last couple of months, I had a lot of trouble sleeping, so I had a doctor prescribe me some medicine. One day I was feeling very tired, so I took one to sleep, but it didn't work. So I took another, and then a third. It was the last one, but I still couldn't sleep anyway. Finally I just got up to make dinner... I admit, I wasn't thinking when I poured myself a glass of wine to calm my nerves, but it was an accident," she repeated firmly.

Sleep. The last few months that had come to be her sole desire. She had even quit working altogether, stayed in bed half the day, sometimes all day long, just trying to catch that ever elusive escape from life. Most of the time, her efforts were in vain. Sleep rarely ever came, and even the few hours she managed a week were shallow, tumultuous, and she came out of it more tired than she first went in. It was never enough.

Perhaps that was why she hadn't bothered to keep track of how many pills she took, or thought anything about drinking wine right after when the affects didn't kick in right away. Her mind had been numbed by the lack of rest, and she had ceased to think of anything but attaining it.

Dr. Ikari hadn't believed her when she said it was an accident, but it really had been- even if it was one she hadn't bothered to avoid.

Her eyes pled with him. _You believe me, don't you?_

Of course he did.

Sesshomaru refused to believe there was anything wrong with his wife, that there was something broken inside of her that was beyond his ability to fix, to make better. He would rather have admitted that she was miserable because of him, not because she couldn't help it. He loved her too much for that.

...OOO...

I'll try to wrap everything up with the next chapter. You know what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

I must have been on crack to think I could have done this story as a oneshot... :sweatdrop:

Anyway, sorry I haven't been as frequent with my updates lately. I've been shopping lately, though I don't know why considering I had trouble trying to find space for all the clothes I already had. It's the curse of being female- too many clothes and still nothing to wear. But oh well. I'm also in the middle of trying to reorganize my room, which I keep procrastinating with the distraction of money spending. It's a vicious cycle, really.

So yeah... but I'll try to be better.

...OOO...

She stared at the darkened ceiling and worried. The voices were getting louder again, the insecurities seeping in once more. She had tried to ignore them, but with every passing day they became more and more persistent. Always when things were at their best.

The higher she was, the harder she fell. No wonder she was so broken.

Kikyo glanced over at Sesshomaru sleeping soundly beside her, his arm across her waist. She couldn't get up without disturbing him; he was such a light sleeper.

She sighed a little. He looked so content, so satisfied with their life.

He was happy wasn't he?

Kikyo ran her fingers around the pearls at her neck. She wore them constantly now, trying to reassure herself of the promises she had made.

He seemed happy, or at least as happy as Sesshomaru ever allowed himself to be.

So why was she so worried?

They were only a week away now from signing the contract that would once again bind them by law as husband and wife, reaffirming their love for one another.

And he did love her, didn't he?

Of course he did. He showed her every day- perhaps not with the grandiose gestures of an infatuated lover, but the simpler overtures of a husband who cared.

Didn't he kiss her every morning, come home as early as he could every night- just for her? Didn't he provide her with everything she needed without her ever having to ask?

_He loves you_, she whispered silently to herself. _He loves you. He loves you._

Or did he only love the woman she was pretending to be?

But how could she pretend to be anyone? she asked herself. How could she be anyone other than who she was?

_He loves you._

So why did it make her feel so guilty?

Kikyo bit her lip, hard; trying to get her mind to focus on the physical pain, distract it from her groundless insecurities.

It wasn't enough.

What if he saw through her façade, she fretted. What if he suddenly realized she wasn't the woman he wanted? What if someone better came along?

What if it was all a mistake? What if second chances ended like the first? After all, what had really changed between them that would result in a different outcome? She was still broken.

Every day the list of what-ifs grew longer. Every day new sources of fear and doubt cropped up until all her energy came to focus almost solely on them. It zapped her of her strength. Even eating and sleeping became difficult tasks.

It was probably just as well though, she realized. Kikyo had gained a few pounds. It was another one of her concerns.

Couldn't he feel them under his arm- the extra amount of fat accumulating in her waist? What if he stopped finding her attractive?

"You're not asleep?"

The cool sound of his voice startled her from her thoughts.

She glanced over and stammered, "No, I..." and reprimanded herself for faltering, forgetting her lines. "I'm thirsty," she lied, indicating his arm around her, "but I didn't want to wake you."

Quietly he removed it and she pushed herself out of bed and went downstairs.

Sesshomaru waited for her to return.

For the past few days now he had felt that there was something bothering her, but he couldn't understand what. He watched her closely trying to determine the source of his apprehension, but there were no visible signs. She acted normal enough during the daytime.

She did eat less during their meals, but he thought that was to be expected. Already she had gained some more weight and looked healthier. It wasn't unthinkable to assume she was merely not hungry- Kikyo never did have much of an appetite anyway.

And it wasn't as if she was withdrawn, the way she had been before their divorce.

Every day she sent him off with a smile and every night she greeted him the same. She didn't try to draw away when he touched her.

One night he had even asked her, "Are you happy?"

Her eyes had widened in surprise at the question.

"Of course," she had answered. "How could I not be?"

So why then did he feel that there was something missing? That there was something she wasn't telling him?

Was he still doing something wrong? he wondered.

It took Kikyo ten minutes- a little longer than it should have- but she did climb back into bed, kiss him goodnight, and closed her eyes.

Sesshomaru frowned for a second and stared at her, but she had shifted on to her side, her back to him. She seemed at ease, sleeping.

Maybe he was imagining things.

Still, his grip tightened around her.

Friday night, in anticipation of the weekend, he made love to her. She hadn't tried to avoid his advances, but during intercourse, she was less receptive than she had been the weeks before. Finally he pulled away.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

But shaking her head slowly, she smiled wanly and replied, "No. I'm sorry, I'm just a little worn tonight..."

Sesshomaru quenched his lust. With an understanding kiss, he fell back on to his side of the bed to let her sleep.

But she didn't sleep.

"I'm a bit thirsty," she declared after several minutes. "I'm going down for some water. Would you like me to bring you a glass?"

"No. I'm fine."

She smiled at him again and threw on her robe, went downstairs.

Sesshomaru gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully.

Was he really just imagining things? Or was there really something wrong?

_Depression is a cancer... it can always return. _

But Kikyo wasn't depressed, he reminded himself. At least, she didn't seem like it.

Perhaps she was only anxious about renewing their marriage license, he reasoned.

But why should she be? Hadn't he shown her that he could be better? That he could be relied upon to meet her needs and her wants? That this time, things would work?

Was that what she was worried about- a repeat of their last attempt at a life together? Was she having doubts, second thoughts?

What was he still doing wrong? he questioned and found no answers.

Downstairs, Kikyo stared blankly into the sink, down into its bottomless drain as if perhaps the solutions were there, just hiding from her.

What was wrong with her? she demanded. How could she let him down like that? And after swearing to be better, to make him happy no matter what.

She had resolved to never fail him again, and had been determined to carry out that intent all the way through. She had promised herself that this time she could do it, but now... now she wasn't so sure.

Could she really do it, she wondered. Could she really continue to make him happy when she didn't even know how to be herself?

How long, she asked herself truthfully, could she really keep this charade going? How long could she keep smiling, how long could she keep ignoring the voices? How long before the pieces unraveled again?

They were bound to unravel...

And what if he found out she knew all along that they would, and yet let him believe that she was better anyway? He would hate her then. She knew he would. She hated herself for deceiving him already.

What had she been thinking in deciding to do so in the first place? How could she have thought that it didn't matter, that he'd never have to find out? Of course it mattered, and of course he would find out sooner or later, that she wasn't the kind of woman he thought she was, wanted her to be.

Who was she trying to fool? Inside she had known it all along herself that she could never be a woman he could love or who deserved to love him. It was all just a lie...

_But in one week_, she thought fearfully. In one week she would once again allow him to tie himself to the dead weight that she was.

She let out a slow sigh and passed a hand over her face, as if that would somehow erase all her worries.

It didn't, but they would have to wait. She had to go back before he got suspicious.

Turning on the faucet, Kikyo filled a glass up with water. She stared at it for several seconds, then dumped it back out before going back upstairs.

Sesshomaru was still waiting for her, and she allowed him to draw her close, all the while hating herself for it.

But she couldn't resist either.

Quietly she wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his shoulder, enjoyed his scent.

He was so real, so solid. The one good thing in her life that wasn't constantly floating away.

She had thought she could hold on to him, anchor herself so she wouldn't drown. But now she realized- what if she was merely dragging him down with her?

The tides were pulling her back, and if she loved him, she would let him go. If she really loved him, then she would let him save himself.

Kikyo only wanted what was best for him, and she wasn't it.

But letting go was easier said than done.

The sun rose and broke the iron resolve of night once more.

The daylight was her stumbling block, the morning reviving the tiny hope that perhaps, just perhaps there was still a chance that things would be ok. That second chances didn't end like the first. That the inevitable could somehow be avoided.

Maybe the pieces would hold after all.

She was so naive.

...ooo...

Sesshomaru couldn't understand.

Kikyo wasn't happy. She tried not to show it outwardly, but he wasn't blind. He could read it in her smiles, in her eyes when she saw him. That lost look he could never fathom.

One day Sesshomaru came home earlier than usual to find her sitting at the kitchen table, her face smothered in her hands, unmoving.

Sesshomaru froze by the doorway, unsure what to do, but she jumped when he entered.

"Oh," she said, surprised but managing to plaster a smile on her face nonetheless. "You're home early. Is everything alright?"

"Fine," he answered, very tempted to buy into her smile. "A client cancelled a meeting." He kissed her temple and held her lightly, wanting to read her feelings through touch.

But she drew away before he could determine anything and began opening up cupboards and cabinets.

"What would you like for dinner?" she asked taking out a box of spaghetti, shaking her head and putting it back.

That night while she showered, Sesshomaru went to his study and closed the door. Turning on the computer, he found a search engine and typed the word he refused to believe.

He found a website and clicked on it.

_Most people,_ the site read,_ who have gone through one episode of depression will, sooner or later, have another one._

_Most people with depression never seek help..._

In his mind, Sesshomaru could not believe his own actions. To even entertain the idea there was something wrong with his wife... He might as well have admitted defeat, his inner voice was telling him. But he had to know.

Determinedly he clicked on a link.

Symptoms.

A list popped up and right away he recognized several indications. All things he had and continued to attribute to other problems.

_Decreased interest or pleasure in usual activities or hobbies. _

_A change in appetite with significance weight loss or weight gain._

_A change in sleeping patterns, such as difficulty sleeping..._

_Restlessness..._

Other ones scared him.

_Feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, or guilt. _

_Thoughts of suicide or death. _

It couldn't be true, he argued with himself. Surely Kikyo had no such pessimistic delusions about her own self-worth, the woman he had always admired for her quick wit? Her cool temper? How could she possibly think she was worthless? What need had she to feel guilty about anything?

_Thoughts of suicide or death. _But she would never allow herself to entertain such ideas. She was stronger than that.

The doctor's words rushed back into his mind, _"She tried to kill herself... An overdose of sleeping pills."_

_...difficulty sleeping..._

"_It was an accident," _she had told him.

The same voice which had pleaded, _"I'm so tired..."_ Was is really a prayer for salvation, or merely an imploration for the ultimate form of rest?

Hurriedly he closed the window on the screen and pushed himself away, trying to distance himself from the answer he refused to comprehend.

A knock at the door diverted his attention.

Kikyo pushed it open to peek inside, making sure to smile when she saw him.

"I'd like to go to bed early tonight," she said. "Unless you'd like me to wait for you. Will you be much longer?"

Shaking his head, he crossed the room to the door, nudged her back outside and closed it securely behind him, locking away the unacceptable possibilities within the contained walls of his study.

"Perhaps we could both use the rest."

Upstairs they changed into the proper attire and climbed into bed, but before either fully hit the pillow, Sesshomaru studied her briefly and asked, "How have you been feeling?"

Kikyo gave him a quizzical glance, "What do you mean? Physically?"

"In general."

She frowned a little as if searching her mind for the right answer, then answered, "I've been feeling well. Why would I be otherwise?"

"No reason," he replied, "but you seem to have trouble sleeping recently."

"Oh yes... just a bit of insomnia," she assured with a smile meant to ease his concerns. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Staring at her for just a bit longer, he responded quietly, "You're my wife. Of course I worry."

As had become his habit, he put an arm around her and drew her a little closer before falling asleep.

Kikyo watched him silently.

The statement stabbed at her guilt, and she grimaced inwardly. He had enough things to worry about- she wasn't supposed to be one of them.

How could she be so selfish? she rebuked herself. If anything she was supposed to help alleviate his concerns, not add to them. She should have had solutions, not been a problem herself...

The thought made her jump.

What if that was all she was- a problem he had to deal with. She didn't put it past him to tolerate her for the sake of duty. Sesshomaru always did feel an obligation to fulfil the roles he committed himself to- even if they weren't as pleasing a proposition afterwards.

Like her husband.

Even though they had technically divorced, he still continued to view her as his responsibility. That was why he kept sending those checks, wasn't it? Why he had come to the hospital when she called him.

Kikyo felt sick to her stomach at the realization.

It was true. She was nothing but a burden to him. A stumbling block always hindering his progress. She didn't know how to be anything else.

What angered her the most was that deep inside, she had always known it, but had been too selfish to admit.

How could she had ever claimed to love him? She had only been trying to save herself, never giving a thought that perhaps by doing so, she was killing him as well.

Why, why, why? she asked herself. Why did she have to be so weak? Why couldn't she have been better? Unbroken?

Why did he have to care?

Quietly she sobbed into her pillow, her back to her sleeping husband, unable to leave because of his arm around her.

Why did he bother to hold on? Why couldn't he see what kind of woman it was he held in his arms? Broken and useless and better left being thrown away.

Save yourself, she wanted to tell him.

His embrace tightened and she closed her eyes, pretended she was asleep while he shifted her to face him and brought her close.

She wanted to cry even more.

The next day was Friday, the day of their departure for Hawaii, paradise. Sesshomaru still had some last loose ends to tie up before taking leave, so he was going to his office in the morning while she packed, and come back at noon to make their five o'clock flight after a quick stop at the courthouse for a marriage license.

He lingered at the doorway before leaving for work.

Something inside of him felt uneasy.

"I'll see you this afternoon," he told her, but waited for her affirmation.

"Of course," she replied after a brief silence he did not like. But Kikyo had always been true to her word and 'of course' was not the same as 'good-bye'.

Giving her another light kiss, he went to work reasoning that the sooner he did, then the sooner he could return.

She would be alright for a few hours, he tried to assure himself on the drive to the office. And he was certain she would be a lot better once they were in Hawaii, once they got away for a while. She was just stressed out- that was all.

The nagging feeling grew anyway.

At home, Kikyo bit her tongue for making another promise, but at least it was one she could keep this time. And he did deserve that much from her, she thought, though it was would be much harder to let go of someone when they were holding on to you as well. Never in all her life did she think she would seek to loosen herself from someone who loved her, cared about her. It was all she had ever really wanted and thought she needed.

Always about herself. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

If he loved her, then it was even more reason for her to leave. If he loved her, then she knew he would never sever himself from her.

Didn't he realize how futile it was to hold on to broken things? How dangerous, even?

At best they would slip from your grasp anyway, and at worse cut you to pieces if they didn't.

She loved him, and she couldn't allow that to happen. She was a mistake she wouldn't allow him to make twice.

This time she would sever their bonds for good, and he would have no reason to feel guilty or obligated. Not if it was her wish.

When Sesshomaru got home, he found her with only one suitcase packed and sitting on the bed, her hands on her face, trying to work up whatever strength remained inside to fortify herself for the self-inflicted separation.

"I can't do it," she told him quietly, staring at the floor unable to meet his questioning eyes. "I can't marry you again."

Sesshomaru had never been one inclined to speak many words, but it was the first time in his life he had ever been at a loss for them.

What had happened?

"What caused you to change your mind?" he asked calmly, too numbed by the unexpected announcement to arrive at a more appropriate reaction.

She just shook her head, "It's nothing... I just..." Sniffling a little, she ran a tissue under her nose, but continued in a steadier tone, "It's for the best." Quietly she took up her suitcase and made her way past him.

In the few seconds it took her to cross to the door and push pass his body still blocking it, a dozen thoughts and emotions flickered through Sesshomaru's head suddenly buzzing to life.

A part of him demanded a more concrete explanation.

What had he done wrong to drive her away? a voice asked heatedly. Even after everything he had done to take care of her, it was still not enough. What more did she want from him that he was so incapable of giving, she thought it was better to seek it somewhere else? He had opened himself for her, why couldn't she do the same?

Just as she walked out the door, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her more by surprise rather than the sheer physical force.

"Stop running from me." The words left his mouth hard, so low she barely heard them.

Kikyo looked back startled.

"I'm not..." Was that really how he saw it? That she was running from him?

She could have laughed at the bitter irony. If she had her way, they would never part for a single second. But it was better this way.

"It's for the best," she told him softly but firmly, tugging at her hand that he wouldn't release.

"If it's for the best," he countered, that dangerous hint of anger in his voice, "then why did you choose to return in the first place?"

"It was a mistake," she responded.

"Mistakes are not something I am capable of making."

"You made one when you married me," she snapped back, her patience breaking. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

"And just how are you a mistake?" he demanded angrily. "Or do you wish to say you're the one who made the mistake in agreeing? Is that it?"

"NO!"

"Then what? What is it that you want that I am incapable of giving you? I love you," he blurted, the words stumbling out of his mouth before he had time to stop them. "Isn't that enough?"

It was the first time he had ever dared to say them out loud.

Kikyo froze, then went limp, stopped trying to break his iron grip around her arm.

Why? Why did he have to make this so difficult?

Tears swelled in her eyes, but her voice was surprising clear and concise even in her own ears as she repeated, "It's for the best."

"No," he declared just as firmly. "Until you can give me a reason, I won't let you go."

"Why can't you understand?" she cried. "I'm not... I can't..." Raising her eyes to meet his, she pled with him silently.

And then he saw it again- that same look that always came when her eyes found him, that look he was never before able to name

It was fear.

The discovery surprised him. Kikyo was fearless. What was she so afraid of?

"Tell me," he ordered quietly.

And then something happened that his logical brain could not begin to comprehend- Kikyo, one hand to her face, now crying openly in front of him.

"Why can't you understand?" she repeated, her voice thick with her tears. "I'll only make you miserable if I stay. I can't make you happy- I don't know how to be... I'm not well, Sesshomaru. I never have been, and I'm sorry for letting you believe otherwise, but I can't continue pretending." She stifled back a sob, "Are you satisfied now? I'm weak- hate me all you like, but please just let me go."

He did just the opposite. Pulling her to him, he encased her thin figure in his arms, let her burry her head on his shoulder.

Was that why she never told him? Because she afraid he would love her less because she wasn't like other women? Because she was sick?

He wondered himself why he had been so adamant to deny that fact.

She was sick, but it wasn't what defined her.

She was Kikyo, orphaned at five months and raised by an ailing grandmother. She made the honor roll all throughout elementary, junior high, and high school, and put herself through college. Majored in art history.

She taught classes at a community college although it offered less money, and fed stray cats with cans of tuna.

She liked to sleep when it rained, and take long baths.

Her favorite food was salmon and pasta, her favorite wine: Pinot noir.

Her favorite flowers were those of her namesake, and her favorite poem was Annabelle Lee.

'And this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.'

It was the only line Sesshomaru could ever remember.

She was his wife, and she had an illness, but there was more to her than that.

Even if she was broken, he thought, couldn't he love the pieces just as much as the whole?

He kissed her wordlessly, pressed her a little closer.

"I'm not letting you go," he told her. "Understand?"

She could only nod and hold back another sob. She didn't have the strength to argue, and he was so stubborn anyway, it would have been useless. Instead she merely locked her arms around him and held on for dear life. She was so tired of being lost.

...ooo...

White florescent lights glared down at them from above, crisp and clean. In fact, the entire room- the entire facility- was white. White walls, white tiles, people in white coats. But everywhere there were also pots of green leafy plants soaking up the sun under large windows.

Kikyo and Sesshomaru sat silently in the grey waiting room chairs, neither one speaking.

Their trip to Hawaii had been postponed for the moment, and they had instead visited Dr. Ikari for a who referred them to a specialist- a psychotherapist by the name of Dr. Inoue. Kikyo wanted to stay away from pills if possible.

Sitting beside him, she didn't say anything, but Sesshomaru could tell she was nervous, constantly fingering the pearls around her neck, biting her lip every now and then, crossing and uncrossing her ankles. She had an aversion to doctors, but Chiyako Inoue seemed like a nice enough woman.

From her stand behind the registration desk, the receptionist flashed them a beaming smile and announced, "Dr. Inoue is ready for you."

Sesshomaru rose to his feet and Kikyo followed suit after taking a deep breath to calm herself.

Looking forward, he took her hand.

"It'll be alright," he told her, not with optimistic confidence, but just pure certainty. "We'll see this through."

She glanced at him and smiled, fingering her necklace one more time as he opened the door to the doctor's office and led her inside.

Yes, it would be alright.

Broken things could be mended after all.

...OOO...

Yes, that is the end! And not a moment sooner- seriously, I've been up all night (no, not writing this, but I really wanted to have it done, so I stayed up even later to finish. It's not morning- a quarter till six and I gotta be somewhere in like... four hours. Crap! Will my contacts even have time to soak before I have to wear them again? Shoot! My glasses have a screw loose... :Bangs head on desk repeatedly:)

But yeah... sorry for any misspelled words and grammar errors and all, but I'm just too durn tired to go back and read. I need sleep.

So how did you like it?


End file.
